Rated for future chapters. Romance abounds but no one seems to be with the right person. Many will have to let go of what they thought they wished for, and grab hold of the few things that are forever true.

After
Ron and Harry had developed a plan of action for making amends with
Hermione, Ron went upstairs to begin preparations whilst Harry waited
in a chair by the fire for Sirius to show up.

Exhausted
from the long day, and cozy from the warmth that emanated from the
hearth, he soon began to drift off; the crimson and gold flickering
in the fireplace faded into visions of a copper-haired young woman
walking down a narrow lane…

He
smiled sleepily at the sight, but soon was mumbling angrily in his
sleep as he saw a dark figure approach her. As the man reached out to
snatch her, Harry saw a very distinguishing mark on the wizard's
forearm. The slumbering boy wanted to scream in defiance, but found
he had no voice to protest with. The mystery man wrapped his cloak
about the girl, hiding her from view. As he did so, a lock of
platinum hair escaped his hood. The pair then vanished without a
trace.

Harry
sat bolt upright, screaming in terror. Panting to catch his breath,
he still managed to declare to the empty room:

"Malfoy
knows. Must…save…Ginny…"

Turn
it inside out so I can seeThe part of you that's drifting over
meAnd when I wake you're never thereBut when I sleep you're
everywhereYou're everywhere

Harry
took the stairs to Ron's room three at a time. He silently burst
through the door to find Ron asleep, drooling into his Charms book.
Harry grabbed his wand and his invisibility cloak out of his trunk
and made his way down the stairs. He paused at Ginny's bedroom door.
Hoping that he was wrong and she was dreaming peacefully, he opened
the door with a whispered "Alohomora" and peeked in.

Hermione
was laying a top of her duvet, asleep in the outfit she'd worn to the
party. Harry noted her puffy eyes and tear strained cheeks; he wanted
to kick himself for letting down the two most important girls in his
life in a matter of hours. Hermione, at least, was safe in bed.

The
only thing in Ginny's bed was a sheet of parchment with a hastily
scrawled note on it.

Despite
his urgency, Harry was drawn to the parchment, hoping it might give
him some clue as to Ginny's whereabouts.

Hermione

I've
gone to Diagon Alley with Justin Finch-Fletchey. We were talking
downstairs and…well…it all happened so fast…but I really want
to get to know him better. With my brothers lurking about, that's an
impossibility…could you please cover for me? I promise I'll return
the favor!

Thanks!

Ginny

Harry's
eyes had widened in disbelief as he read, but now were narrowed in
anger. He fought the urge to rip the parchment to shreds; making his
way downstairs, thoughts stampeded through his mind…Why did she
go off with Justin? There's nothing special about him…Wait - What
do I care who Ginny spends her time with, so long as she's happy?…I
must just be upset that she left without telling anyone…that must
be it, why else would I be so angry?…But she was alone when I saw
her being taken - How could Justin have left her alone?

"If
anything's happened to her I'll kill him," Harry muttered as he
tossed floo powder into the flames. Wrapping his silvery cloak
tightly about him, the now unseen boy-who-lived ordered 'Malfoy
Manor' and spun off towards his destination.

Ginny
shivered as she rolled over, and mumbled something incoherent. Slowly
coming out of her disoriented state, she began to wonder where she
was. Stone floor…cold…damp…reminds me of the potions
classroom…potions…amulet…Diurn Alley…

"Oh,
God, I've been abducted! Where the hell am I?"

She
allowed her eyes to slit open slowly, but her caution was for naught
as only darkness was revealed. She fumbled about for her wand, only
to discover that it and her cloak were missing. All she had were the
clothes on her back and the small amulet that was hidden underneath
her shirt. She squeezed the small golden charm between her fingers
and sighed in relief as she sensed its counterpart nearby. At least
it hadn't been discarded on the way to …wherever she had ended up.

Why
did I have to be such a silly girl and do a thing like faint? Now I'm
alone, with no way to defend myself, and no one knows where I am! How
could I have been so careless!

She
began to cry. Her raking sobs were so loud, that she did not hear the
soft click of the door, or the softly spoken spell. Only the sudden
illumination of dozens of torches encircling the room were able to
make her eyes raise and search for the one that brought light to her
dark prison. When she found him, she nearly fainted again in utter
disbelief.

"D-Draco
Malfoy? But…that means…"

"Yes,
Weasley, you are at Malfoy Manor. In the dungeons to be precise."
The steely-eyed rival of none other than Harry Potter informed her.
Forgetting she was defenseless, Ginny stood and began hurling insults
at him.

"You
worthless git! Torturing innocent muggle-borns isn't enough for you
and your dear Deatheater daddy? Decided to have some fun with
purebloods now? You'll never get away with this you -"

Draco
rolled his eyes at her rants and interrupted. "Please Weasley,
if I wanted to have a good time with a pure-blood you're the last
witch who's door I'd come knocking on. As for my excuse for a
father…say what you will about him, it won't be any worse that
the things I've called him."

"What
are you on about, Malfoy?"

"I'm
'on' about getting you the out of this god-forsaken place."

"Why?
I thought you were going to inherit your father's mask and hooded
robes? Not big enough for his britches, eh?"

"Would
you rather I leave you here for Father to deal with as he sees
fit?"

Ginny's
parched tongue didn't know how to respond. Swallowing nervously,
she considered the consequences of her answer. Should I wait for
the fully trained wizard and Deatheater bastard to come and torture
me…or go with said bastard's son, who is only a year older
than me, to an uncertain destination?

Ginny
Weasley sighed deeply, releasing herself from everything she thought
about Draco Malfoy. If she trusted him, he just might prove himself
to be more than everyone made him out to be.

"Let's
go," she responded with confidence as she hooked her arm through
his.

Startled,
yet in a way pleased, Draco led her out of the dank chamber.

As
the young Master Malfoy directed Ginny through countless ornately
decorated halls of his family's estate, she began to question his
motivations.

"Why
are you doing this, Malfoy? Why are you saving me?"

"Because
I don't want your blood on my hands. I know what my father's
capable of and how much he hates you – not a good combination,
Weasley."

"My
name is Ginny, if you don't mind," she interjected curtly.

"I
do mind, actually, couldn't your parents have come up with
something less muggle for their only daughter?"

"Oh,
and 'Draco' is such a great name?" Ginny teased, "What
did you mother do, randomly choose a page in Fantastic Beasts and
Where to Find Them? Can you imagine – you could have been
Kelpie Malfoy!" Ginny erupted into a fit of giggles.

"Quiet
Weasley! Unless you want to get us both caught. C'mon, in here,"
he hissed, motioning for her to enter the door he had just opened.

Once
inside the room, which was immaculately furnished in green and silver
hues, Ginny's trepidations flooded back to her. Shakingly she
began, "Is this…I mean, are we in –"

"Yes,
this is my room. You can wipe that scared look off your face, Miss
Weasley, we're only here because it's the last place my father
would come to look for you if he got back early."

"Got
back early? From where? Why would he kidnap me and then skive off?"

"If
his master calls, Father goes…the coward…he has the audacity to
call himself a pure-blood, but if he were really true to his name, he
wouldn't go around mindlessly following the orders of some
half-blooded excuse for the Slytherin heir. Voldemort may be
powerful, but he'll never be a true pure blood."

"What,
and end up like Lucius? Never spending time with my family, only
concerned about power? What good is power if you have to spend your
life hidden behind a mask, every second at the beck and call of some
lousy git that tortures you for fun? Most likely die a traumatic
death, alone, unloved, no one caring that you're gone – if anyone
even notices? Yeah, sounds like a bloody good time," he
finished, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"So,
do you know why I'm here?"

"Not
really. I was working on my potions assignment down in the dungeons
when I heard father come back. He put you in that chamber and
followed you in, but then he was summoned and locked you in there.
Oh, and he took these from you," Draco pulled Ginny's cloak,
wand, and the disguised amulet from his closet.

Ginny
tried not to look as incredibly relieved as she felt, but Draco
noticed the fire that surged in her eyes when she saw the seemingly
worthless pendant.

"What's
so special about this rusty old thing?" he prodded.

"Umm…er…it's
just an heirloom is all. I had it with me to…to get it fixed."

"Oh?
And just how were you going to achieve that? All the shops closed
hours ago – surely you weren't wandering around London looking
for a 24-hour jewelry repair shop?"

"Of
course not! I was visiting a friend and just forgot about it that's
all. It's no bother…I'll get it fixed another day. Can I have
my things back now, please?"

Draco
tossed Ginny her cloak and wand, but kept examining the amulet.

"You
know," he drawled, "this doesn't look so bad, I'm sure
I could fix it for you with a handy little spell or tw-"

"Give
it here, Malfoy," Ginny ordered as she pointed her wand straight
at the blonde Slytherin.

Draco
raised an eyebrow as he responded.

Harry
landed with a thud, covered with soot. Looking around him, he wasn't
sure if he had made it to Malfoy Manor or not. Poking around in the
dusty attic, he came across an old trunk that bore the Hogwart's
crest and the initials 'LM'.

"It
could be Lucius Malfoy's old school trunk, but with my history
traveling the floo network, I probably ended up at Professor
McGonagall's childhood home and this is her sister's trunk or
something," Harry grumbled. "Well, there's one way to
find out."

Harry
undid the lock and his fears were soon proven unfounded, for amongst
the old (though, it appeared, untouched) textbooks, were assorted
green and silver Slytherin paraphernalia. Just to be sure, Harry
opened a small photo album he found nestled between Unfogging the
Future and Quidditch Through the Ages.

Inside
the cover was a rather posh bookplate that read "Property of
Master Lucius Malfoy, Slytherin House". Harry flipped trough the
pages, which were mostly filled with shots of a young Lucius posing
in the Slytherin common room, playing Quidditch, et cetera. Then one
of the pictures caught his eye.

For
a second, he thought he saw himself standing in between Ginny and
Draco, until he noticed the others in the picture and realized it was
his parents, accompanied by the Marauders, Arabella Figg, and a
couple of girls he didn't recognize. The Gryffindors of days past
were facing off against Lucius, a couple of burly fellows who had to
have been the elder Crabbe and Goyle, and Severus Snape was lurking
on the edge.

Something
wasn't quite right in that picture yet Harry, anxious for any link
to his parents he could find, pulled it out of the plastic sleeve. As
he did so, a tiny folded piece of parchment fluttered to the floor.
Intrigued, he picked it up and realized that it had been shrunken to
fit behind the photograph he had just tucked inside his cloak. After
a quick Engorgio!, he untied the sting holding the parchment
shut and opened the makeshift envelope. He gasped at what he saw.

Severus
Snape.

And
Arabella Figg.

Snogging.
In a dungeon chamber Harry hadn't seen before. But judging by the
robes that they were half-wearing, it must be at Hogwart's
somewhere. Harry pulled the picture he had nabbed out of his pocket
and looked at it a little closer. He realized the reason that it
looked odd – the rivals were all seething with anger, except for
Arabella and Snape. They were eyeing each other nervously, mouthing
silent comments to each other when the others weren't looking. This
is going to be one interesting year, Harry thought.

As
he flipped to the next picture in the stack, he wished he had left
well enough alone. The rest of the shots were of Lily Evans in the
prefect's bathroom wearing next to nothing. And what she was
wearing wasn't anywhere near something Harry ever imagined his mother
in.

He
hoped to high heaven that she was unaware of Malfoy's little photo
shoot. Either way, he knew he would have nightmares about those
pictures for as long as he lived. He shook his head to try to clear
the images from his brain and suddenly remembered why he was there in
the first place.

He
hastily shrunk the pictures back down and shoved them randomly into
the album. After everything looked as he had found it, he started for
the door. With a final glance back at the trunk, he shuddered at what
it held before heading down the stairs in search for Ginny, swearing
that if Draco dared to repeat the elder Malfoy's apparent obsession
with red-heads, he would personally put a rather abrupt end to it.

"Give
it here, Malfoy," Ginny ordered as she pointed her wand straight
at the blonde Slytherin.

Draco
raised an eyebrow as he responded, "Quite the brave little
lioness aren't you? I don't blame you for being so shrewd about
trusting me – rather Slytherin of you, if truth be told. I'm
willing to bet that it's not just an heirloom, is it?"

Ginny
kept her stance and only glared more fiercely in response, so Malfoy
continued on speaking.

"Fine,
we all have our secrets. So how about a trade? You tell me something
I might find…valuable…and I'll give you your little bauble
back."

"As
you wish," he drawled, "You don't have to go getting all
swish-and-flick happy." Draco tossed the amulet into Ginny's
outstretched hand, then leaned against the nearest bedpost. "Your
turn."

Ginny
narrowed her eyes, still unsure of Draco's motivations. Well,
I've come this far...I might as well keep on, she decided.

"You
stayed true to your word. How very Gryffindor of you."

"Touché,"
he smirked.

"So
what do I know that you could possibly find useful?"

"Why
you're a threat to Lucius, for starters. It escapes me how a
muggle-loving girl such as yourself has him so worried."

Ginny
lowered her wand, tucked it into her cloak, and settled herself onto
the settee at the foot of the bed. "It's complicated. The
abbreviated version is that ever since Tom Riddle's diary was
destroyed, part of its magic stayed with me…and I have some sort of
connection to Voldemort that allows me to occasionally see what he
sees. It's horrible, what he does…" Ginny began to shiver at
the memories and drew her cloak more tightly around herself.

Draco
was staring into space as all the pieces slowly came together in his
mind. "So that's why Father went to the trouble of snagging
you himself. Usually things like that are left to wizards of much
lesser status. But I'll bet this wasn't something Voldemort
wanted done, or you'd be there, not here…Lucius must be acting on
his own to try to cover his arse. Which would also explain why he was
summoned right after he got back here with you. The dark lord must
have been watching him…and now father is going to have to pay for
his insubordination. It all fits, don't you think?"

Ginny
couldn't answer him. Her worst fears had been confirmed. Lucius
suspected that the diary had had some effect on her, and now
Voldemort knew as well. Her future was as bright as Moaning Myrtle's;
gleaning an understanding of the ghost's temperament, Ginny began
to sob hysterically.

Harry
roamed the halls of Malfoy Manor safely hidden underneath his
invisibility cloak. As he made his way down the many flights of
stairs he searched in vain for any hint at Ginny's whereabouts.
After a while, he was ready to settle for any evidence that people
actually lived in this rather museum-esque household; even the
paintings were eerily stagnant.

After
what seemed like an hour or more, Mr. Potter finally happened upon a
house elf, unfortunately by stepping on him (her? it was hard to
tell) as the servant creature was polishing the feet of an ancient
suit of armor.

"Ack!"
it exclaimed before regaining its composure and bowing its head in
submission. The elf shakily spoke, "Who is there? Is that you,
master? A million apologies for getting in your way, sir…wherever
you might be…please forgive me for being so inconsiderate, my
lord!" The elf then proceeded to be kicked by the armor (which
it had charmed) as punishment.

Harry
responded by snorting in as Malfoy of a way as he could muster, and
continued on through the winding corridors, putting as much distance
between himself and the small-yet-powerful beast as he could.

Something
intangible made him go down a flight of steps to the right, then take
a left at the landing down a well-lit hallway. Whatever that
something was, he thanked God for it, because the hallway was lined
with portraits of none other than Draco Malfoy, starting in infancy,
and increasing by a year with every frame. As he neared a large maple
door, he heard a sound he knew all too well. Ginny was in there, and
she was crying.

His
emerald eyes ablaze with fury, Harry stormed towards the door,
whipping off his cloak as he went, with only one thing on his mind:

Hex
first.

Ask
questions later.

Draco
didn't know what exactly to do. He'd seen women cry before (his
father had made sure of that), he had even made a few cry with his
trademark teasing and taunting. But this was something different.
Ginny was crying because she was scared – and of the exact same
people that he feared everyday. Knowing that he would be teased and
cursed beyond recognition if another Slytherin were to witness his
actions, but secure in the fact that he was safe at home, Draco
joined Ginny on the settee and wrapped his arms around her, soothing
her as best he could.

Normally,
the littlest Weasley would have been repulsed at his touch, but she
knew that things were different now, too. She knew that to defeat
Voldemort would require every possible alliance… 'unless those of
us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us'
Dumbledore had said.

Draco
knew the truth; he was willing to help; that was enough for Ginny.
Still crying, but sensing that she was close to regaining control of
her emotions, Ginny looked up at Draco with gratitude.

The
oddly saccharine moment was broken, however, by the abrupt entrance
of an enraged Harry Potter, who sized up the scene in the only way
his mind could interpret it, raised his wand, and roared,

"Expelliarmus!"

Draco
flew across the room and tried to stand when –

"Stupefy!"

– he
fell to the floor in a heap.

Ginny
rose to her feet in a rage, the startled look on her face drew
Harry's attention away from her hastily burying the amulet in an
inner cloak pocket. He couldn't figure out why she looked…well,
mad.

"Aren't
you happy to see me?"

"Why
should I be!" she choked out, her voice still husky from
crying.

"Um,
because I just saved you from that lousy git?" Harry questioned,
nodding his head towards the lump on the carpet that was Draco
Malfoy.

Ginny
rolled her eyes, "Just because you're the boy who lived
doesn't make you everyone's knight in shining armor! I'm sorry
to burst your bubble, but the 'lousy git' you're referring to
happens to be the hero tonight. Enervate!"

Draco
moaned as he came to, rubbing his head where it had crashed into the
floor. As he straightened his robes, he smirked at Harry's
incredulous expression before making his way to Ginny's side.

"Look,
you don't have much time left. I'll make up something to tell
Lucius, you get back home and pretend like nothing happened.
Understand? I promise I'll contact you as soon as I can,"
Draco went over to his desk and pulled something out of one of the
drawers, "Here, this is the safest way for you to return."

"No,
Potter, it's a rare Australian portkey. Father sent it to me one
year while he was on holiday. First use your wand to tell it where
you want to go, then once you get there you'll have five seconds to
let go of it before it returns back here."

"Why
would anyone want to travel somewhere and back so quickly?" It
was Ginny's turn to be perplexed, and Harry's turn to be
insightful.

"Oh,
I'm sure Malfoy has had his share of fun with it…it's rare
because it's contraband, not because it's hard to make. Quite
useful for pulling pranks, eh, Malfoy?"

"Enough
you two!" Ginny turned to Draco, "Thank you. If nothing
else I'll talk to you on the train, alright?" Draco nodded,
and Ginny gave him a quick hug before joining Harry in the middle of
the room. As they grasped the portkey, she waved her wand over it and
muttered 'Weasley Way'.

As
they spun back towards home, soft, melodic words filled his head…

Just
tell me how I got this farJust tell me why you're here and who
you are'Cause every time I lookYou're never thereAnd
every time I sleepYou're always there

'Cause you're
everywhere to meAnd when I close my eyes it's you I seeYou're
everything I knowThat makes me believeI'm not aloneI'm
not alone

The
two young Gryffindors landed softly in a patch of grass beside a
gravel road, and quickly set the portkey down in front of them. Once
it had vanished, they stood and began making their way down the lane
towards the Burrow.

"Why
didn't you have us arrive inside?"

"Because
I didn't want to have to explain that portkey if anyone is awake.
Let's just hope everyone's still in bed so we won't have to
fabricate a story to tell them."

"Yes,
I'm keeping my promise to Draco, as I expect him to keep his
promise to me. And I won't tell them what happened," Ginny
motioned towards the nearing house, "but I will tell you…just
not tonight, I'm exhausted."

"I
would think so, it's nearly three in the morning."

"You
don't know the half of it." Ginny muttered as she opened the
front door. Once she saw what was on the other side, she wished she
had decided to sneak in the back way.

The
sound of footsteps and muffled voices caused the group worrying in
the Weasley living room to fall silent. Nine pairs of eyes were
immediately transfixed on the turning doorknob.

The
creaking door.

The
two rather ruffled looking teenagers.

In
a domino effect, they spoke from left to right across the room.

"What
happened to you?" the even more tear-streaked Hermione implored.

"Thank
Merlin you're both alive!" Molly gasped.

"I
was about to summon the Ministry! Why didn't you inform anyone of
where you'd gone?" Arthur was boiling. In the blink of an eye,
Ginny looked quizzically back at Hermione and Harry shook his head at
Ginny, his eyes telling her Hermione didn't get her note.

Percy
noticed their silent interaction and accused, "Didn't you have
enough of a snog-fest this afternoon, Harry?"

"What
the hell were you two thinking!" Sirius and Charlie
chorused.

Fred
and George asked if they could go back to bed now that everyone was
accounted for.

Ron
just glared.

Ginny
rolled her eyes dramatically. "Honestly! I've been gone for
twelve hours and you've only just noticed? I don't know what
Harry was thinking when he left the Burrow, but I wanted to get out
from under the Weasley microscope, thank you very much!"

After
she stormed upstairs and was out of sight, the nine sets of eyes
returned to Harry.

Mr.
Potter mumbled something incoherent and tried to make his way to the
stairs. Sirius swiftly blocked his path. Harry tried to turn, but
found the Weasley clan was hovering immediately behind him. After an
exasperated sigh, Harry launched feet-first into a tirade that, had
he used his head, he would have realized was a lost cause (in other
words, he was toast).

"Look,
what Ginny was doing is her business, I was only trying to
help. Since no one seems to appreciate me tonight, I'm going to go
to bed. If you want to yell at someone, yell at yourselves! She was
gone for half a day and not a one of you cared to notice. If you're
so concerned about your 'little girl' why don't you try
listening to what she has to say, not screaming at her because you
were too wrapped up in your own lives to pay her any attention!"

Ron,
who had until this point kept his silence, was the first to break it,
"Go to sleep if you want, but not in my room…you won't last
the night." With his glare still in place, he took the stairs
two at a time, followed by the twins.

"My,
my, look at the time…we must be getting to bed, dear. Early day
tomorrow! See you all in the morning," Mrs. Weasley commented,
overly (and forcibly) cheerfully, as she pulled her husband to their
room.

After
a glance at his own watch, Percy gave Harry an evil glare to rival
Professor Snape's, and brushed by him roughly without a word.

Next
up to bat, Charlie stood, seething with anger from every inch of his
muscular body, staring down at Harry as if he were going to pounce at
any instant and beat the magic out of him. Instead, he took out his
wand, turned, and muttered something under his breath. A flash of
orange bounced onto the couch and chairs in the room. With a smirk,
the last Weasley in the room retired up the stairs.

Now
Harry had to face his guardian. Sirius stood there staring at Harry
in shock, anger, disbelief, hurt, rage…the emotions swirled in his
eyes. A number of times he started to open his mouth, but words to
match his thoughts could never be found. After minutes had passed, he
growled from deep in his chest and transformed into his animagi form.
As he pounced out the door, Hermione came out of the shadows.

"Harry,
I don't know what to say. I would undo the hex on the furniture,
but I think you need to lay awake all night and contemplate what you
did. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was pretty damn stupid. You have
a lot of explaining to do."

Harry
laid down on the now rock-hard couch and tried to figure out what had
transpired in the past few hours.

In
the bright moonlight, a large black dog could be seen squeezing in
the gate to an old private cemetery. He wove through the marble
statues and headstones until he came to the most recent monument.
Satisfied that the late hour and lingering fog were enough to keep
him from being spotted, the scraggly canine transformed into a
still-fuming Sirius Black.

He
sat in front of the grave marker; as the time passed his scowl
softened and tears began to fill his eyes. Reaching forward, he
cleared the moss from the stone before him.

POTTER

James
and Lilyb. May 2, 1955 January 31, 1956

d.
October 31, 1981

May
their love continue to shine,No longer from their eyes,But
down from the starsTo light the way for the ones they have left
behind.

"Why?"
Sirius whispered, "Why did you have to make me his guardian?
What do I know about raising children? How am I supposed to control
him? Why did you have to die before you could see how proud he would
have made you? Why do I have to try to discipline a boy that reminds
me daily of the man I pulled pranks with?

"I
feel like I've failed you both. I wasn't there for him, and now
he's lost any hope of a happy childhood. Those bloody muggles
probably came close to starving the boy a thousand times! I nearly
let him get killed by Wormtail. Then I let Wormtail escape and run
back to the Dark Lord, who nearly kills Harry because I was too blind
to see through their plans. And tonight he sneaks off somewhere…those
redheads – no offense, Lil – think he was off snogging. But I
know he wasn't off having a good time; something bad happened
tonight, I just know it. I should have been there to stop him from
leaving, or at least help him with whatever he was off playing hero
at. He doesn't trust me…he must not or he would have confided in
me," he said, his heartbreaking.

"I
can't stand myself, letting you both down over and over again. I'm
not fit for the title of 'godfather' – there's nothing holy
or paternal about me. What were you thinking? I can't properly
raise him! I have to live as a fing dog, for Merlin's sake! The
boy has no stability, no family life! And if he doesn't learn how
to be a man, who's fault is it? Mine!" Sirius's whisper had
grown to a full-fledged yell.

"And
when Voldemort comes after him…I fear that history will repeat
itself and I'll let down yet another Potter!"

Not
being able to contain the innumerable emotions racing through his
heart, Mr. Black fell back onto the soft grass, his tears glistening
in the light of the stars.

The
stars…he remembered his first few nights at Azkaban, when he was
still in a right enough mind to appreciate the stars. As he blinked
repeatedly to let the tears fall from his eyes, his vision cleared
and the constellations above him came into focus.

"Aquila,"
he whispered, "The eagle of Zeus…"

"Sirius?
Sirius, can you hear me?" a soft voice called through the bars
of his cell door.

Inside,
26-year-old Sirius Black was leaning against the small hole that
served as a window, lost in thought.

"Sirius?
Sirius are you alright?"

He
growled, not wanting to be disturbed from his wallows of self-hate.

"Padfoot,
please, I know you're in there. It's not like the dementors to
give you one last floo call."

After
a hesitant silence, the woman heard him make his way to her.

"Pamela?
Is that you? What are you doing here, shouldn't you be cursing the
fact that you ever trusted me?"

"Oh,
Siri, I don't believe what they're saying…I always knew when a
Marauder was lying to me, and I know that you had nothing to do
with…with what happened in Godric's Hollow. I'm sorry I didn't
make it here sooner…bloody red tape. How are you feeling?"

"How
am I feeling? How would you feel if your best mate and his wife were
dead because of your lack in judgment? And your godson would be, too,
if it hadn't been for some random stroke of good magic? I feel
worthless, incapable, distraught, alone…I feel like anything good
in the world has no place in my life. After all, I'm doomed to die
in the most wretched of places on earth. I feel pretty damn lousy.
You?"

"Snap
out of it Black! Those damn dementors have started taking their toll
on you. You have to fight all the negative feelings – let go of
them, you can't change the past."

"I
can't change the present either, or the future! I have to sit here
and wish that James and Lily had never known me. If they hadn't,
Harry would have a Godfather that could take care of him, and maybe
James and Lily would have lived."

"Is
that what you think – that this is all your fault? If it hadn't
been for you, James and Lily may not have gotten married. If it
hadn't been for you, they wouldn't have realized they were in
danger. If –"

"If
it hadn't been for me being a coward, they would have lived!"

"You
can't honestly mean that, Sirius," Pamela Thompson whispered,
trying to calm her friend down. "You-know-who would have gotten
to them sooner or later; fate waits for no man – no matter how much
he may charm her."

Her
suggestive grin managed to bring a smile to his face. "Charming,
am I?"

"Did
Lily and James ever tell you why they picked you to be Harry's
godfather?"

"Because
I'm charming?"

"Because
you're the most loyal wizard Gryffindor has seen in a long time.
When you love someone, you do it with all of your heart. If you make
a promise, it will be kept. I imagine the sorting hat had a hard time
with you, didn't it? I know why you're a Gryffindor though --
because even your extremely Hufflepuffian loyalty pales in comparison
to your chivalry and bravery. Lily and James chose you because they
knew you would always protect Harry, no matter what."

"And
I've failed them!" he roared. "I can't protect him from
in here!"

"You
did what you thought was best to protect them at the time. Let it go,
Sirius, you have to have hope. If you can grab hold of what is true
and good in the world, then you keep your sanity while you're here.
If you don't escape first, I'm sure your name will be cleared
eventually."

"How
can you be so bloody optimistic, Miss Thompson?"

"For
the same reason you're so damned thickheaded! I was just born this
way."

"Well
then, what happy thoughts do you have as to how I can manage survive
in here?"

"You're
already using your alternate identity to escape a lot of the
Dementor's effects, I presume?"

"Naturally."

"Well,
your sanity should be safe, then. Now to deal with your extremely
male attitude."

Sirius
glared at Pamela's comment, but waited silently for her to
continue.

"How
familiar are you with the summer constellations?"

"Enough
to find my way home. Though I prefer the winter sky."

"Surprise,
surprise," she responded dryly. "Well, Mr. Black, do you
know where the star Altair is?"

"It's
the head of the eagle, isn't it?"

"Got
it in one. Aquila was Zeus's eagle; it is said in the old Greek
myths that during the ten-year war between the followers of Zeus and
the giant Titans, a magnificent eagle was ever by the side of Zeus
waiting to carry his thunderbolts down to kill the monstrous Titans.
It was for his loyalty that the eagle was given a position among the
stars as the constellation Aquila."

"So,
what, I'm supposed to 'be the eagle'?"

"In
a sense, you already are. You may be the Great Dog in the winter sky,
just as you are a brave Gryffindor to most. But I know the flip side
of you. I know that you're just as loyal as the Eagle in the summer
sky. I don't know when I'll see you next, Padfoot, but please
remember that you have to stay strong for Harry…and for me."
She wiped a tear from her cheek as she whispered the last few words.

"I
promise."

As
40-year-old Sirius Black came out of his reverie, he looked at Aquila
flying in the southeastern sky. "A promise is a promise…even
if you haven't seen the person for fourteen years."

With
a deep sigh, Sirius stood and shifted back into his canine form. He
couldn't change the past. But he could do his best to make things
right with the present; and starting over with Harry was at the top
of his list.

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